Promises
by ConcernedReader830
Summary: Dany and Jon have a much needed discussion. One shot, post 8x04. Perhaps not realistic, but very needed. The sort of ending we can only hope for, at this point.


He's always wondered if there wasn't a little bit of the famed Targaryen madness in Daenerys. How sane could you be, to climb on the back of a dragon? A little bit of madness was necessary, sometimes. And she'd been through much, Jorah had once told him. More than she'd told him of. He saw a little bit more of it, after the battle and the celebration, when she had lost so many people, so many of her Unsullied, nearly her entire Khalasar, too.

She's shut herself up for days since Missandei's beheading, sleeping next to Drogon, flying with him, only making appearances for food and to bathe. The great beast had curled itself around her, she was nestled near his claws when he came upon her. Drogon had lifted his head with a rumbling purr at his approach, and allowed him entrance to see Daenerys.

"Are you okay?" He asked, taking a seat next to her.

"No," She answered in a soft voice. "I don't know that I'll ever be okay again. I wonder if this is how it started, for my father. I can feel it, creeping at the back of my head, and it makes me afraid. I'm sure they've already started to call me the mad queen."

"You're not mad," He whispered. "I won't let that happen to you,"

"I've been through so many terrible things, Jon," Daenerys closed her violet eyes. "But I've never been as terrified of any of them as I am right now, of this," She pressed a finger to her temple. "All these thoughts, itching for dominance. They're going to consume me.

"I've lost so many people," She breathed. "Viserys, Drogo, Rhaego, Rakharo, Irra, Ser Barristan, Daario, Viserion, Jorah, who was there from the beginning, my Unsullied, and Khalasar, Rheagal, and now Missandei. Gods, I'm only 25 and I've already lost three children. Mirri Maz Durr was right,"

"There was another Dragon?" Jon asked, thinking that immediately. Why wouldn't he? She'd said she was barren, she said the dragons were the only children she would ever have, it made sense, even if he'd never believed for a minute that she was barren. "And who is the Mirri Maz Durr you speak of?"

"No, Jon," She answered him. It is almost a laugh. "Did you know, I was fifteen when my brother sold me to Khal Drogo? He told me that he would let Drogo's entire Khalasar fuck me if it got him his army to take back the seven kingdoms. Jorah was there. He traveled with the Khalasar. Despite our beginnings, Drogo and I did come to love one another. It was… necessary, if I was to find any happiness. Moon of my life, he called me, and he was my sun and stars. I became pregnant before long. A little boy, Rhaego was his name. He would be six or seven now. He was prophesied to be the stallion who mounted the world."

"What happened?"

"Drogo caught an infection, from a wound." She sighed, tucking a loose strand of silver blonde hair behind her ears. It was in disarray, now, without Missandei to braid it so intricately. "Six of my moons had passed at the time." She thought. "I asked a witch woman to save his life. We were told to stay out of the tent, do not enter it. The Khalasar grew restless. They do not like blood magic. A man pushed me, I fell. Jorah killed him, but the damage was done. I went into labor early, and the healers would not come. I was cursed, they said. The only one who could deliver Rhaego was the witch, Mirri Maz Durr. Jorah carried me to the tent. They told me Rhaego was born dead,"

Jon felt a lump in his throat. At fifteen, she had already lost a child. "Jorah and the witch were the only ones who saw him. I never did. I never even held him. They said he was monstrous. Covered in scales, and tiny wings, and his skin fell away to reveal grave worm. With Jorah gone, it's almost like he never existed at all. He was the only one left who's seen him, held him. Now he's gone, too. I felt Rhaego growing and moving inside me, and then he was just _gone._ It's like with Jorah gone, Rhaego never existed. Everyone else who was there is dead, by now."

John remembered seeing a fine scar on Daenerys' stomach, low to her womb, where a child would have grown. He'd simply thought someone had tried to kill her before, but now he wondered if that was not a remnant of her son's birth.

"I paid for my husband's life with my son's, but it was not life I got in return. Drogo's heart beat, but there was no soul left in him. He did not move, or speak, and the Khalasar had abandoned us in the red waste. Death would have been kinder, so that was what I gave him."

"You…?"

"I smothered my own husband." She answered. "When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the oceans turn to dust and the mountains blow like leaves in the wind. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Only then will he return to you. That is what Mirri Maz Durr said to me. That was the curse. What was left of the Khalasar built a funeral pyre. We burned Drogo and Rhaego with the witch, and the three dragon eggs I had been given as a wedding gift. I climbed on the pyre myself. My clothes turned to ash, and so did everything else, but when the sun rose I was still there, unburnt, naked as my name day with three baby dragons at my breast. I always told people that I named Rheagal and Viserion for my brothers, but all three of my dragons were named for the people I lost before them. Drogo, Rhaego, and Viserys."

"The mother of dragons," He breathed, finally understanding.

"I had my brother killed," She said after a long while. "When he was young, he was good. He was happy, and loved me, but the more we had to run, the more he became like my father. He grew mad. He didn't love me, though he did once. And I realized that I didn't love him so much as I loved the idea of my brother, the sweet little boy that I remembered, the one who called me Dany. He died long before I admitted it. Viserion, in a way, was everything I wished Viserys would have been. The Khalasar would not follow him, so he threatened to cut Rhaego from my womb. Drogo knew what had to be done, but he would not have done it if I hadn't allowed it. He wanted a crown, and we gave him one that men would tremble to look upon. Drogo poured molten gold on his head. What kind of queen would I be if I killed my brother and smothered my husband? A queen who traded her baby's life for a life that was not?"

"Their deaths were not your fault," Jon assured her.

"Like I said," She whispered. "So many people. So many names, and Missandei is only the most recent. I don't want the throne anymore. Not if this is what it costs me. Everyone I love, everyone close to me is dying," He saw tears in her eyes, and gathered her in his arms, and held her. "If I keep this up, who else will I have to add to that list? Grey worm, Tyrion, Drogon, _you?_ Our…" Daenerys fell off, her hand tracing over her stomach, and Jon felt his heart leap at the implication.

"Our what?" He asked, trying to contain his excitement. "Our what, Daenerys?"

"It appears you were right about the witch, Jon," She laughed sadly, glancing at her stomach. He could just see a faint swell, just beginning, barely even a thought yet, to small to be known. "Missandei noticed it before…" She drew off. "Her last gift to me, I suppose. I would never have believed it on my own. It may not survive," She said.

"I told you, it doesn't matter to me," He insisted. "Not if we have ten kids, not if we never have any. But I never believed you were barren, and I don't believe our child will die."

"I cannot lose any more people in this war," She sobbed. "And if I lose any of you, I don't know what will happen to me. I might go the way of my father."

"I won't let that happen to you," He promised.

"Hold me,"

"Always,"

"Promise me, Jon," She pleaded. "Promise me that you won't let that happen to me. I don't care if I never sit on the iron throne, I just want to stay myself. I want you, and me. I want Drogon, and our baby, and I want to not feel like I'm about to crack into a thousand bloody pieces. I don't want the crown anymore, nobody will see me on it now. Jon, I want you to have it."

"Daenerys, you are _my queen,"_ He pleaded. "I am loyal to you, and only you. I don't want the damned thing,"

"It's not safe for me to have it," She shook her head. "Not now, maybe not ever. The seven kingdoms will accept you. You have a claim of the Iron Throne."

"That godforsaken chair had brought nothing but trouble to everyone who ever sat on it,"

"We'll have Drogon melt it down, for all I care," She smiled. "No more Iron throne. We'll put all of this behind us."

"All of it," He agreed. "And you will always be _my queen._ I love you. We'll rule together, if it must be. Both of us. I promise, I won't let you go mad. I promise our baby will be safe."

"I miss our boat, Jon Snow," She whispered into his shoulder. "I miss my Khalasar on the great grass sea. I miss my dragons, and Jorah, and Missandei and Rhaego. I miss my house in Braavos with a red door and a lemon tree. Things were so much simpler then, when it was just us, keeping the crew up at night," She smiled. John let a small laugh spring forth. "Like the rest of the world and our problems didn't exist for a while, We should have just stayed on our boat, and sailed to the end of the world."

"I'll plant you a lemon tree in king's landing when this is over," He smiled. "I'll paint the door to our babe's nursery red, and they will have a lemon tree growing outside their window, like you did. They'll have what we never could. One day, soon, we'll sail to the ends of the earth too, after we wed. The rest of the world will disappear. I can't have my queen going mad before that, can I?"

"So, we're getting married now, are we?" She smiled.

"I promised I'd never sire another bastard named Snow. Even if I never was a bastard." He smiled to his queen. "I love you, you know?"

"I know,"


End file.
